


Oh, Baby (You're a Classic)

by newyorktopaloalto



Series: An Invincible Summer [3]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: (enjolras might be as well), M/M, enjolras is a dummy and combeferre is in love, kind of an interlude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 08:04:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newyorktopaloalto/pseuds/newyorktopaloalto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Combeferre is in love, Grantaire has a plan, and Enjolras is beyond confused. Or— how Enjolras realized that Combeferre and Grantaire were not, in actuality, dating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh, Baby (You're a Classic)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Fall Out Boy song _Tiffany Blews_

“Jehan.” 

“I would be jealous but since you just came screaming my name, I don’t think I have the right to be.” 

Grantaire rolled his eyes and turned to lay his head on Combeferre’s chest. 

“You’re in love with Jehan, asshole.” 

Combeferre hummed and ran his fingers through Grantaire’s hair, not speaking. Maybe that wasn’t something Grantaire should have mentioned after particularly mind-blowing sex, but he knew that if he waited, he would never actually speak to Combeferre about it. The silence continued, and after awhile R laced their fingers together, feeling the moment Combeferre took an almost shuddering breath. 

“Yeah.” 

The words themselves didn’t come as much of a surprise, but the tone of almost hopeless despair very much did. The single word was almost faltered and Combeferre practically buried his head in the back of Grantaire’s. R licked his lips and shifted their positions so he was the one who Combeferre was leaning on, instead of their usual ‘Combeferre is the metaphorical guide and helps everyone, never sparing a thought for himself.’ Well, Grantaire might be able to change that. 

“We’ll make it work,” he whispered into Combeferre’s curls; he knew the other man didn’t quite comprehend his meaning, and for once he was glad of it. 

***

“Enjolras, I need your help.” 

Said blond glanced up from his work, taking in Grantaire’s doubtless disheveled appearance. He ran his fingers through his hair, re-tying his ponytail, before gesturing for Grantaire to sit across from him. Grantaire couldn’t quite comprehend Enjolras’ expression— a flash of some confusing emotion in his eyes, before they returned placid. 

“Of course, Grantaire— what can I do for you?” 

Grantaire took a deep breath, letting his fingers rub the bridge of his nose, exhaling after what seemed to be a long moment. 

“Combeferre.” 

Another flash crossed Enjolras’ face, and Grantaire paused, not knowing if Enjolras wished to say something. A head shake let him continue. 

“Combeferre is in love with Jehan, and I know Jehan and he won’t say anything, but he’s totally into Combeferre as well. And I know for sure that ‘Ferre won’t say anything to our intrepid poet. So I need your help to do something. I know you probably won’t want to though, but I think we need to get them together.” 

He stated the last sentence as more of one word rather than several, hands wringing together in anticipation of Enjolras’ reaction. Grantaire watched Enjolras’ eyebrows furrow and his lips part slightly, before his lips tightened into an angry line. Well, R wasn’t exactly expecting Enjolras to be ecstatic, but anger was surprising. 

“Combeferre is in love with Jehan, he _told_ you, and now you want to get them together?” 

Grantaire nodded, face pleading for Enjolras to see the profound wisdom in his plan. Normally Grantaire would go to Jehan for matters of the romantic variety, but he was obviously out of the question. Other than Courfeyrac, whom Grantaire would never trust with romance, the only other who knew both Jehan and Combeferre well enough was Enjolras. And while Enjolras was hardly well-versed in love and romance, he was Grantaire’s last chance. 

“Help me, Enjolras, you’re my only hope,” Grantaire murmured, giving the other man his best ‘princess in distress’ stare. 

“I just—“ Enjolras clenched his jaw and reached out his hand to place it on Grantaire’s arm. “Are you okay with that? I didn’t think Combeferre could be that cruel, and knowing that you’re going along with it? It’s distressing.” 

Grantaire’s eyes were drawn to where Enjolras’ hand was against his arm, swallowing down his slight nausea at the touch. 

“I’m fine with it, duh. I think Combeferre deserves to be happy, and Jehan too, and I know that they would be happy together.” He paused. “I don’t know how any of this is cruel via Combeferre, nor how my involvement is particularly distressing.” 

Enjolras stood up suddenly at the end of R’s statement, absolutely perplexing the other as he dragged him up and almost frog-marched the shorter man to Combeferre’s room.

“Combeferre,” Enjolras intoned, his piercing gaze basically burning Combeferre’s still-waking-up body alive. 

“What?” Combeferre groaned, and Grantaire had never been more confused in his life as Enjolras actually growled at his own best friend. 

“How can you do this, Combeferre? Tell Grantaire you’re in love with Jehan? Get him to help you, even. I would think you would have the decency to break up with him first.” 

“Whoa!” Grantaire interrupted what would undoubtedly become another human rights rant. “Whoa, Combeferre and I aren’t together.” 

Enjolras’ face blanked as he glanced towards Grantaire, then to Combeferre, then once more to Grantaire. 

“But you two, you guys have—“

Combeferre’s chuckle cut off the rest of Enjolras’ statement, forcing the other to close his mouth and turn a shade of red that Grantaire had never actually seen on a living person before. 

“We just sometimes have sex, is all, Enjolras. We’re friends and both have needs, and we like one another well enough.” 

Grantaire had probably never been more mortified in his life as he turned a shade of red that probably rivaled Enjolras’ own blush. He had never been embarrassed of his blatant sex life with Combeferre, but the thought that Enjolras believed they were actually dating? That— well, wasn’t super great. After all, Grantaire still had the inescapable hope that maybe, one day, Enjolras could actually love him back. It was a fruitless effort, but Grantaire couldn’t help himself. 

He turned to Enjolras, who was standing oddly silent, grip still tight on Grantaire’s arm. Combeferre cleared his throat and Enjolras blinked back into reality. 

“Oh,” he murmured, his usual famed eloquence seemingly escaping him on that singular word. “Oh. Well then, yes Grantaire, I’ll help.” 

“Help with what?” Combeferre asked before Grantaire could respond. 

“Nothing!” Grantaire hurriedly replied—not giving Enjolras even the barest chance of being able to get a word in edgewise. 

“Grantaire,” Combeferre warned as R dragged the still somewhat shocked blond out of the room. “Grantaire, you better not be planning what I think you are!” 

“Of course, not, ‘Ferre,” he flippantly shouted behind his shoulder as he brought up a notebook and pen, “Enjolras is.”

**Author's Note:**

> Next up is a look into Grantaire's past— probably.


End file.
